


Out in the Cold

by RPGgirl514



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: During Canon, Evil Hans, Gen, Introspection, King Hans, Sociopath Hans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPGgirl514/pseuds/RPGgirl514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never meant to hurt anyone. He was just protecting his kingdom, as a good king should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out in the Cold

The square buzzed with gossip as those who had witnessed the queen’s flight filled in those who hadn’t. Others milled around in a daze as snow fell softly around them. Children darted through the crowd, catching snowflakes on their tongues. Just like that, Anna was gone. It fell to Hans to care for Arendelle in her stead. He turned to Kai and Gerda, the steward and the head cook.

“Gerda, how long would it take to make a hot meal, enough for everyone?”

“Well, we certainly have the staff for it, and if we make a stew we could stretch the roast that was supposed to be for the coronation feast . . . Four hours, perhaps?”

“Do what you must,” Hans said, and Gerda hurried away, barking out orders as she went. Hans turned to Kai, who was staring dumbfounded at the gate through which Anna had departed. “Kai, I need you to . . .” But the steward was clearly not listening. “Kai!”

Kai snapped to attention. “Begging your pardon, sire!”

“It’s alright,” Hans said graciously. “This has all been quite shocking. But we must carry on. Princess Anna has left me in charge, and she said you could help. We’ll have to work together to keep Arendelle safe in her absence.”

“Of course, sire.”

“Come with me,” Hans said. “We need to distribute blankets and cloaks to those who need them, and ensure there’s enough firewood to go around.” He set off toward the castle.

“Sire, wait! What of yourself? Please, allow me to fetch you some warmer clothes. It won’t do for you to freeze -- who will lead Arendelle then?”

Hans paused. Kai had a point. “Alright,” he conceded. “But there is no time to waste.”

Hans spent the remainder of the evening walking the streets of Arendelle with Kai and several other castle servants, all of them burdened down with warm clothes and blankets for those who had none.

By the time he returned to the castle, Hans' feet were sore and numb with cold. Kai had managed to find warmer clothes for the prince, but Hans still wore his own boots, which were more tailored to the sun-warmed, rocky beaches of the Southern Isles than these snowy cobblestones. He couldn’t wait to retire to a quiet bedchamber and warm himself by the fire.

But the work of a ruler (even a temporary one) was never complete. Hans surveilled the Great Hall from the banquet table set up at one end of the vast space. The staff of the castle kitchens, many of whom had only just been hired in time for the coronation feast, had worked tirelessly under Gerda’s watchful eye. Presently they had set up a serving line on the opposite end from Hans, ladling out portions of hearty _lapskaus_ and steaming mugs of _gløgg_. Guests and citizens alike sat shoulder to shoulder on benches that ran the length of the hall, hunched over trestle tables as they ate their meals. Hans cleared his throat.

“Citizens and guests of Arendelle,” he addressed the hall. Its natural acoustics projected his voice with little effort. He had never given a speech to such a crowd before -- that was always his father, King of the Southern Isles, or sometimes his eldest brother as heir apparent. Anxiety dried out his mouth. Hans took a sip of warm, spiced wine and continued. “I am Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. Princess Anna has left me in charge while she is away. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to keep you all warm and safe until the princess and the queen return.”

Someone near the front set down their spoon. “Let’s hear it for Prince Hans!” Soon the entire hall was filled with applause. Hans smiled hesitantly and raised his hand to accept their praise. His heart soared. _Is this what it feels like? To be admired? To be king?_ A bowl was pushed into his hands, startling him out of his reverie. He looked over to find Gerda smiling at him. “Eat, your Highness. You’ve already done more than enough today.”

Hans sat down to eat at the banquet table as the applause died out. The stew was simply made, but the meat and vegetables were of high quality and perfectly cooked. After hours out in the cold, Hans had never tasted a meal so divine.

“Is there somewhere I can rest? Alone? I need to think,” Hans said when Kai had cleared his empty bowl. His auburn brows were furrowed in thought. Kai felt a stab of sympathy for the young prince.

“Of course, sire,” Kai said. “Follow me.” Gerda followed close behind with a pitcher.

Kai led Hans through several corridors and the gallery before showing him into a dark room. The window panes, etched with a latticework of frost, admitted a dreary grey light. Embers glowed dimly in the hearth, which Kai immediately set to and had soon stoked into a small but merry fire. Gerda poured a steaming glass of _gløgg_ and set it and the pitcher on the table beside the chess set. The walls held a few bookshelves with titles that did not interest the prince, pre-occupied as he was, and the seating was limited to a chaise lounge and armchair.

“Is there anything else, your Grace?”

“No, thank you, Kai, Gerda,” Hans said shortly with a nod to each of them. “That will be all.”

Kai bowed and Gerda curtsied before they exited. They paused just outside the door, exchanging a look laden with pity for the prince.

“He is far too young to shoulder such a burden, especially one that’s not his to bear,” said Gerda.

“And yet our own Queen Elsa is younger than he,” Kai said.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Gerda replied with a shrug.

As soon as Hans heard the door click shut, he let out a long breath and sank into the armchair. Its rich upholstery was clearly more form than function, but after spending the day on his feet Hans found it comfortable enough. He gazed speculatively into the fire, rolling the stemmed glass between his gloved fingers and watching the burgundy liquid swirl around the bowl.

Alone at least, Hans allowed himself to contemplate the fate of Arendelle. _What if Anna and Elsa never returned?_ He thought of the praise he received at dinner. _Worse yet . . . what if they did?_

Hans pinched the bridge of his long, straight nose -- he could feel a headache coming on. Thoughts tumbled through his mind like snowflakes on a winter wind. His aching feet protested as he stood up and began to pace before the fireplace. He caught sight of a large portrait on the wall and stopped in front of the frame, studying its subject. A young king on his Coronation Day, holding the orb and scepter. The previous monarch, no doubt -- his coppery hair and the sharp curve of his chin reminded Hans strongly of Anna. 

“Did you know? About Elsa?” he asked the King softly. “You must have known. I’m sure you tried to help. You probably did everything you could.” Hans looked away. “More than my family ever did for me.”

Hans hugged his arms around himself -- despite the warmth of the room and the flush brought on by the wine, he still felt chilled. This magical winter bit deep into his bones. He looked back up at the king.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I always thought, when the time came, I would just know the right thing to do. I’m starting to think there isn’t one. What would you have done?” Hans fell silent, as if expecting the portrait to answer, but the king’s hesitant expression remained unchanged.

“You probably always did the right thing,” Hans said bitterly. “You were a _real_ king, not just a little boy playing pretend.”

If a portrait could frown, Hans was sure he saw the tiniest downturn of the king’s mouth and brow. _Arendelle doesn’t need you,_ the king’s eyes seemed to say. Hans scowled at the painting. 

“Then where are you, your Majesty?” Hans said mockingly. “Where are your daughters? They’ve gone up the North Mountain just when Arendelle needs a leader the most! Elsa is a danger to Arendelle, and Anna is a foolish little girl. Neither of them are fit to rule. They don’t deserve your kingdom!”

And you do? King Agdar seemed to ask.

“I could be good for Arendelle,” Hans said. “I could be good to your daughter.”

_You were not even good enough for your own family,_ King Agdar’s eyes accused. _How could you possibly be good enough for mine?_

Hans felt a spike of anger, harsh in the back of his throat, and took a gulp of _gløgg_ to wash it away. He was being ridiculous. The king in the portrait was dead, and here was Hans having an argument with a painting on the wall. _But what if he’s right?_ the small cruel voice in Hans’ head whispered. _Not one of your brothers would ever do for you what Anna has done for Elsa. They would have gladly left you out in the cold. And why? Because you’re not worth it, and you know it. That’s why you’re here playing pretend-king. That’s why you’re --_

Hans’ grip tightened on his wineglass. The vessel shattered, drenching his white gloves in crimson. Glass shards tinkled as they hit the floor, the sound like icicles falling from the eaves. Hans stared at his once pristine gloves, now stained red with hot wine. He clenched his fists slowly, feeling broken glass bite into the meaty flesh of his palm. And then he understood.

Hans did not intend to hurt anyone. But when a kingdom is threatened, the king must protect it -- no matter the cost. If he was to be a king worthy of a kingdom, Hans could not let anyone jeopardize the safety of Arendelle and its citizens. Not Anna, not Elsa, not _anyone_. Hans peeled off his gloves and tossed them into the fire. Glass crunched under his boots as he strode towards the Great Hall with renewed purpose.

“Prince Hans!” Kai met him in the corridor with an urgent shout.

“Yes? What is it?"

Kai took a deep breath. "Princess Anna's horse has returned without her."

Hans knew he should feel concern for Anna, or, failing that, guilt that he did not. But all he could feel was the stinging in his hands and a vague sense of triumph. He might yet earn a kingdom of his own.

_The queen is dead. Long live the king._

**Author's Note:**

>  _lapskaus_ \- a Norwegian dish made of meat (often roasted beef or pork) and seasonal vegetables (such as potatoes, carrots, turnips, and onions), diced together and cooked into a stew.  
>  _gløgg_ \- a hot beverage typically made from red wine, sugar, spices (such as cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, cloves, and bitter orange), and optionally also stronger spirits such as vodka, akvavit, or brandy.


End file.
